Ain't no rest
by deleriumofyou
Summary: Aboard the remains of the Dawn, Master Chief and Cortana crash onto a planet not listed in their systems, where there are no good people and everyday is war. Halo/Borderlands crossover
1. welcome to pandora

She was never going into hibernation again.

Cortana watched with a modicum of panic on the view-screen as the _Dawn_ plummeted and tried making quicker work of waking the Master Chief.

Something had hit the _Dawn_ with some kind of electromagnetic pulse that had resounded and acted like a cannon, stopping the _Dawn_ in her tracks and sent her spiraling into the gravitational pull of a nearby planet. Cortana may be experiencing the beginning stages of rampancy in her current state, but from the diagnostics she ran, the planet's pull was extremely unusual for its size.

Had she not been so worried about securing what little of the broken ship she could, and waking the Chief, she would have noticed a lot more than just the planet's pull. "Chief, wake up. I need you!" Cortana's subroutines were checking through the _Dawn's_ deteriorating systems and they were entering the atmosphere at an alarming and dangerous rate. She heard the ship's hull begin to crack under the sheer pressure.

The cryo-pod popped open and the hiss of released pressure was a relief to the A.I. Her Spartan groaned a little and shook his head as if he were groggy. They'd only been afloat for a year and five months approximately, but John needed a little time to adjust. "Cortana?" his voice sounded gravelly.

"Here, Chief. But not for long. I went into hibernation mode after you took your nap and the _Dawn_ was hit by something. Whatever it was spun us off course and now we're about to get an up close and personal view of a planet I don't recognize." She spoke quickly and used a tone that brokered no tolerance for questions at the current time. The Chief understood and nodded once to show rudimentary understanding of their situation.

Cortana was downloading whatever she could from the _Dawn_ – most of it was quick repair and diagnostic codes for herself and whatever other data the _Dawn_ may have collected on her directionless flight.

Master Chief grunted and stepped down from the pod, grabbing an assault rifle from a nearby rack and a pistol to slip into a thigh holster. He adjusted himself and while his heads-up display was rebooting itself, he turned to Cortana. "Survivors?" he was nothing if not optimistic.

Cortana didn't look over at him although for a moment she stopped scrolling through data, "Just you Chief." She said it quietly before she was back to doing what she did best.

"And you," he acknowledged. The Master Chief yanked the empty data chip from his helmet and held it out to Cortana expectantly.

Cortana looked at it momentarily, seemingly distant while she finished her download. "Alright. Guess we have to get ready for impact now Chief." She transferred over to the chip and when it was a bright blue, Master Chief inserted her back into the slot of his helmet.

"Cortana, can you calculate the ship's landing trajectory?" he reloaded the assault gun and stocked up on ammo from a cargo crate.

"We can't stay here…the cryo-chamber looks like it's going to be ripped in half when we land. Try heading left down the corridor to the maintenance control room. We might have a better chance. The _Dawn_ keeps flipping and we're about to lose our gravity. Free-falling won't work this time so we'll have to find somewhere to buckle up." She paused momentarily, "And remember to keep your head down Chief. I'm in here too."

"Yes ma'am," the Master Chief intoned, and started making his way down the corridor, having to find his balance continuously as the _Dawn_ bucked her way down to the planet.

"Chief," Cortana warned, "the _Dawn_ can't stabilize herself anymore. We're going to be landing in fifteen point nine seconds. Crash-course style. Hang on to something, Chief."

"Understood," he murmured back, strapping his assault rifle to his back and ducking into the maintenance room. Gravity-loss had finally kicked in and sent the Master Chief into a nearby wall, knocking his helmet.

"Careful!" she snapped, sounding slightly panicked.

Master Chief braced himself in a corner of the room, holding onto the bars and jamming his feet against a console to prevent flipping into the air again. With a free hand, he smacked the side of his helmet in retribution to Cortana's snippiness. "Not now Cortana." The _Dawn_ seemed to somersault, flipping over her tail and tumbling sideways.

"Twelve point two seconds until impact," Cortana counted down, her voice small in his helmet while the _Dawn_ groaned and screamed her way down to her final landing.

Master Chief gripped the bars behind him tightly, the metal bending in his grip.

"Start praying Chief," she said grimly.

Master Chief grunted, "Only praying I've ever done is 'spray and pray'."

He wasn't sure if Cortana laughed at that. The _Dawn_ had landed and skidded, throwing her occupants from their secured place and gravity was in effect again. Master Chief collided with the roof and then the floor before being tossed into another wall.

And then there was nothing.

… … …

"Welcome Vault Hunt – oh wait. Awww. You're dead," a small box shaped yellow robot fitted with a large wheel for mobility stopped in front of the armored body before it. It sighed, static filling its speakers. "Well it would have been a pleasure to greet you newcomer, if you were not currently already on your way to fertilizing the planet. Good for you!" it continued on cheerfully as it went in search of a small shovel.

"Chief? John wake up. _John_!"

Master Chief's eyes snapped open and he stared up into a light blue sky, a sun shining overhead brightly. "Here," he answered before rolling to his feet. Cortana's image appeared in the corner of his HUD, frowning slightly. "Status report?" he looked around, an endless stretch of desert greeting him. Dust eddies swirled around him and he could spot large pieces of the _Dawn_ littering the area. The maintenance room he had occupied was more or less intact and seemed to have taken most of the damage. If anything, it was likely that his MJOLNIR armor had sustained dents or scratches. His shield was down but starting to recharge.

"Chief, the readings I'm getting is that the oxygen and carbon dioxide levels of the planet are stable, no report of intelligent life nearby but I'm picking up a lot of satellite activity overhead. It's bouncing everywhere."

"What?" he cocked his head as if he were looking down at her.

She sighed, "Air is breathable. And someone has satellites, which means that communication is possible."

Whatever response Chief may have had was cut off by a jubilant cry: "You're alive! Hurray! I was not about to bury your body with this shovel I've coincidentally recovered!" Master Chief spun and brought up the assault rifle that had still remained attached to his back to stare a small yellow robot with one eye.

The yellow robot froze, thin metal arms raised with two pinchers at the end of each. The eye looked at the Chief's visor, then to the assault rifle pointed at it and then back to the Chief.

"Uh I don't really think it counts as a hostile Chief." Cortana murmured over their private comm.

Before Chief could lower the rifle, the robot flung the shovel into the air and wheeled around to flee, screaming as it flapping its arms over its head nonsensically. "Serpentine! Seeeerrrrpeeeennntiiinnnee!" it screamed as it sped away in distinctly loopy patterns.

Chief stared after it for a moment before relaxing his stance. "I can reconfirm my earlier evaluation of the area. No intelligent life-forms here Chief," Cortana muttered.

Master Chief grunted in agreement. "Any idea which way to go?" he asked. The area looked bleak and deserted, no sign that sentient beings had been in the area recently.

Cortana was silent for a moment before she sighed, a vocal signal equal to that of a shrug. "Which way does a Spartan ever go without map or directions?"

"North," Chief agreed and started walking, cataloguing what little of the environment he could.

"Cortana," the Chief began before she readjusted his grip on his rifle.

"Yeah Chief?"

"What did you mean you didn't recognize the planet?" he asked. That Cortana was rampant or forgetting things crossed his mind momentarily, but she wasn't rampant.

"I mean that I have no data on this planet, or even where the _Dawn_ was near when she was hit. I'm flying in as blind as you Chief," Cortana sounded equal parts frustrated and apologetic.

Chief nodded once and tapped the back of his helmet with a quick hand. "Nothing we haven't done before."

Cortana laughed softly. "Seems to be a hobby we share." Her laughter cut off abruptly, "We have movement on your seven Chief, moving fast." Chief spun and lifted the rifle to his hip, "Vehicular movement, probability that there's more than one possible hostile is eighty-nine percent."

"Affirmative," he positioned himself at his ten for lack of cover and waited. He felt a spike of adrenaline and anticipation. After so long in the cryo-pods with little aside of nutrition fed to him via tubes, he was looking forward to action to get back in the groove.

"Easy there Chief, your testosterone is enough to make a girl blush," Cortana drawled. Master Chief felt a corner of his lips quirk.

"Weeeooooo!" it sounded like a human's cry, but the sound that followed war of more interest. It was the high roar of an engine, unmistakable albeit not quite as ferocious as a Warthog. Master Chief, from his crouched position watched as a shadow jumped into the sky. An elongated front with open sides and a cramped back that could seat two, Chief saw that it had a rocket launcher attached to its top.

The vehicle dropped heavily, hydraulics bouncing it and it spun in several circles, kicking up dust before it stopped. The rocket launcher was pointed in his general vicinity.

"Chief…" Cortana warned.

"I know."

The driver, wearing a white and red gas mask that didn't contain the dark blue Mohawk that rose behind it was outfitted in what looked more like a vintage leather jacket. "They've got shields, Chief," Cortana announced.

The one manning the launcher was bare-chested with only orange pants and a similar mask as his companion.

The driver swung out of the vehicle easily and the Master Chief saw the shotgun on his back and a revolver in his hands. Without warning, the rocket launcher went off and Chief rolled away just in time for it to create a small crater. The revolver began to shoot off rapidly, with fire flaring with each shot. Master Chief stood to his feet and turned away to find cover as he did not want to engage a rocket launcher on a face-to-face confrontation. He ran on a course leading to where large boulder was located at his four o'clock, about four hundred yards ahead. It would have to do temporarily until he could at least knock off the gunner or blow the launcher up.

Cortana sounded alarmed, "Chief, be careful of that gun!" another rocket flew past him. "It's – it's incendiary! It's shooting fire!" she added unnecessarily. Fire flared up at his left.

The revolver went off again and his shield abruptly dropped to thirty percent when a bullet hit him. His vision swam red while he looked down and realized that he was on fire. His shield continued to lower.

"Roll Chief, roll!"

Chief rolled again to miss another shot and was on his feet, banking hard to his right and rolling until he was behind the boulder. The fire had put itself out from all his rolling. He heard the whooping and hollering of them men behind him.

A projectile flew past his spot and embedded in the ground. It looked like a hatchet with a curving back not dissimilar to a pick.

Fire continued to reign down near him and he heard another rocket behind launched. He almost smiled. Cortana huffed exasperatedly. "You're smiling about this aren't you," she accused.

With one hand he swiped two fingers across his visor.

He ducked out of cover and returned fire. He managed to hit the shirtless one in the chest, knocking him off the gunner's position. The man groaned but got back up laughing.

Master Chief heard the revolver go off again and ducked back into cover.

The fire grazed past and knocked his shield down to seventy-five percent.

He heard the man snarl out and another hatchet flew past him. There was still maniacal laughter in the air. "Chief we've got two more vehicles heading this way. Looks like they're bringing the cavalry, lucky you," Cortana marked them on his HUD.

"Yeah, lucky me," he returned fire and looked over to see there were two more vehicles with similarly dressed men. Two had SMGs, one another pistol and the final one looked like he carried an assault rifle. They open fire, throwing insults at the Chief as well as each other.

"_Welcome to Pandora_!"


	2. welcome to pandora pt2

**I apologize if MC's character is off. His characterization was mostly done through body language and short sentences. Also, it takes enough out of me because I'm writing the fricking Master Chief, so trying not to spontaneously orgasm while writing him is draining as it is.**

**Thaaaanks~**

* * *

Master Chief was distantly feeling the side-effects of his long term icing and was subsequently ignoring them while the firefight continued. He could wait for medical attention once he won this.

Only two of the six Master Chief was engaging seemed to have combat skills while the others only had their weapons, which was lucky for him. His time in cryo wasn't helping his reflexes at the moment.

Cortana grumbled when another incendiary shot sailed overhead. "What kind of weapon is this? The mechanics of it just don't make any sense…if I could just see the schematics or even a draft design of it" –

Chief rolled out and open fired at the closest hostile, peppering him with his assault rifle. His shield must have gone down because the Chief could see his insides now. Another shot from the fire revolver sent his shield plunging down again and he went behind cover. His priority, despite the numbers, was to take out the one with the fire weapon and the gunner of the rocket launcher.

The other two vehicles had come equipped with machine guns, but the men seemed to ignore them in favor of their own weaponry.

"Chief, we have to take out the one with that fire-weapon," Cortana stated obviously. Chief was silent in his agreement. "The vehicle near him should do the trick. Down to the lower left behind the front wheel, there's a small tank, I think it's the vehicle's fuel tank. Let's see if he's fire-proof himself." She sounded slightly smug about it. Master Chief was willing to bet she only sounded that way because the incendiary revolver had surprised her. "Turnabout is fair play."

"Mark it." He waited for the sound of guns being reloaded before he spun out from the boulder and started firing heavily at the tank that Cortana had lit up on his HUD.

The man looked behind him and tried scrambling away but the tank had given up. The spark from the bullets had been enough. The gunner managed only to leap down from his post before the vehicle blew up, fire and smoke curling out from it.

The jacket-wearing hostile dropped his revolver and rolled on the ground, screaming while his flesh cooked. His companion in the orange pants was dead – Chief could see the shrapnel had bypassed his shield and skewered him.

The other men flinched away, swearing and running behind their own vehicles to return fire again.

The assault rifle was out of its ammo. The clip he'd loaded it with earlier had only been half filled and the rest of the ammo was lost with the _Dawn_ and her scattered pieces. Chief tossed his rifle to the ground, ignoring the instinct to pick it up again before dropping his hand to his pistol and gripping the combat knife pressed to his calf on a magnetic strip of MJOLNIR.

Master Chief waited, and he heard a vague noise like a throat clearing itself in his helmet. Cortana was not a fan of close kills; they tended to be messy with him.

"I advise killing the one with the assault rifle; I'm not getting a reading of any shield. He's also starting to favor his shoulder," Cortana's voice leaked over into his helmet's speakers. She didn't show her face on his HUD.

Chief waited for another reprieve and heard the men reloading. He jumped over the boulder and landed running with his sights set on the man with the assault rifle. "Aw shit!" he heard the muffled curse behind his mask as he gave up trying to reload the rifle. He instead went to his belt and threw a grenade. Chief put on another burst of speed and ignored the bullets that began peppering his shield. The grenade sailed overhead, exploding upon impact with the boulder. The shockwave it sent out was small and barely dented Chief's shield or was even enough to cause him to change his direction.

He went into a lunge when he was in range of the man and his elbow snapped into a jutting ledge to catch the other man's nose. It crunched under MJOLNIR, and blood sprayed out, hitting Chief's visor.

"Crap!" he heard from behind him and Chief used the man with the broken nose as cover. His enemy staggered back and dropped his rifle. Chief threw his other hand, the one with the combat knife, up and caught him in his abdomen, twisting and forcing it up and out to the side.

He heard a gurgle and then a cough.

Master Chief yanked the knife out and gripped his vest, hooking his finger on the pin of a grenade located at the dying man's belt. Chief lifted him off his feet and flung him towards the other two. His body knocked one of the other men off his feet but the remaining second had ducked behind the nearest vehicle.

The grenade detonated and sent a spray of acid to those near it. Master Chief jerked back from the unexpected spray while the men caught in its perimeter screamed when the acid ate through their shields.

The sharp bark of an SMG made the Spartan duck behind a vehicle. "You bastard! You killed Benny!"

Master Chief reached out and gripped the fallen assault rifle from the previous enemy. He considered using the vehicle as cover, sneaking to the back and snapping the last man's neck just to save bullets. The environment was proving hostile as it was, and without direction, and until Cortana could properly download a map, they could be without supplies for a long while.

He heard a low ticking begin and then Cortana: "Chief," she warned.

Master Chief used one hand to grip the side of the vehicle and swing to its top, muzzle of his stolen prize pointing down. The last man had a large grenade in hand with a ridiculous looking small clock pinned to its side. "Screw you!" he snapped and threw the grenade up at the Chief.

Master Chief watched it and felt time slow. He flipped the assault rifle and used the butt like a bat to smack it far from him. It pinged off and sailed, leaving a dent in the rifle. He saw the man below him crane his head to watch. The grenade bounced on the ground once, before seeming to shatter and send off one, two, three, four, five fragments of itself around the area. One of the fragments landed next to the man who screamed.

Chief dropped down behind the vehicle and waited.

The fragments simultaneously exploded.

There was a wet smack on the other side of the vehicle and though he couldn't see her, Chief imagined Cortana wincing at the sound. Master Chief stood and walked to the other side of the vehicle. The last man that had remained standing had only half of his torso to spare.

Chief dropped to one knee and started scavenging what he could – ammo clips, a pouch of what looked like jerky, and a canteen of water. He moved onto the other bodies left and emptied them of ammo, water, food and weapons. He took a leather bandolier filled with ammo from one of them and strode over to the first men he'd encountered. He took the fire revolver and turned it over in his hands. He flicked the chamber out and popped out a bullet. He stared at it. There seemed to be nothing special about it.

"Chief, I'd like to run a diagnostic on that," Cortana seemed excited about the weapon.

"Later. Let's find out where we are." He snapped the weapon together and holstered it.

"Right," Cortana didn't sound happy about being denied, but practicality won out. It didn't occur to Master Chief that for Cortana, practicality shouldn't have to win out.

He walked over the vehicle he'd taken cover near and discovered that it had a fuel leak, probably from the shrapnel. He was lucky it hadn't exploded earlier from the grenades. He moved to the second vehicle, a dark forest green, and shoved the body on its side away from its opening.

"I suppose I should be grateful that you aren't one to make smug one-liners." Cortana mused off-handedly.

The entrance of the vehicle was too small for him and so he bent the bars away from each other before sliding in. The hydraulics of the machine took well enough to him, creaking ominously at first before adjusting.

A wheel jutted out, looking almost civilian and on the interface panel next to it, there was a flat etching of a smiley face. The smiley face was red until Chief gripped the wheel and settled in the vehicle properly. It flashed green. There were three pedals, of which Chief assumed was a brake, the acceleration and possibly a booster. There was a gearstick sticking out next to the smiley face.

"Need help there Chief?" Cortana teased. He'd never been great with vehicles, and previous crashes indicated as such. There was a generally unexplained, if implicitly understood reason between them why Cortana sometimes took over for driving.

"No," he muttered almost sternly. He pressed his foot to the far right pedal and the engine roared to life. Static filled the open cab and then a southern drawl crackled over the line.

"Scooter here, and I've just noticed that I don't got your DNA in my Catch-A-Riiiiiiiiide! System."

Cortana's face appeared in the lower left of Chief's HUD, face carefully blank. She was likely tracing whatever she could on the voice, the vehicle and the recording. "The vehicle has a dumb A.I. attached to it, probably for smart driving," she mused.

The prerecording wasn't done yet.

"So! Here's an introduction for us both ha-haaa! Now this here's a **Runner**. You press on acceleration to go, and brake to stop. That one waaaayyy to the left is the boost. You use that one to haul ass. The gearstick is a little tricky…now I'mma take this slow so's ya'll can understand it. Up is forward, down is reverse. And uh…guess that's it. Huh. Scooter out!"

The gearstick design was simple and it really was labeled: 'FWD', 'REV' with arrows accompanying them, and a final design in the center of the bulbous heading stick with two arrows in a circle labeled 'FUN'.

Chief slammed the gearstick up and pressed the pedal. The Runner jerked forward with a roar and set off. It drove easily, coasting over dunes of sand and automatically acclimating itself for traction and steepness.

"What am I looking for Cortana?" Chief rumbled while they drove on, moving past raised dunes and the odd outcropping of rock, some possibly being caves from the way they jutted inward.

"A communications tower, or until I can catch a wireless signal strong enough to hack my way into a system. A tower would be best though, it would be easier for the time being and we might find people." she responded. There a moment of silence before: "Chief, I ran a medical check on your body." She sounded mildly annoyed.

Master Chief didn't immediately return with an answer, "Do what you need to."

Her image on his HUD pursed her lips. "You could let a girl lecture you once in a while."

"I do," he grumbled. He wouldn't protest. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off.

His muscles ached terribly, joints creaking and he felt as if he were suffering from vertigo. Long-term space travel tended to do that – he'd never been frozen for so long before and the kick of adrenaline had only concealed it. Chief could feel everything that hadn't previously announced itself.

While his suit had saved him from frostbite, he knew he likely had frostnip in certain areas – particularly his toes, and maybe even to an affect his eyes. They burned. Had he taken the suit off, used the proper precautions before entering cryostasis instead of jumping in, he may have been better off.

He felt his suit beginning to adjust its temperatures in order to help the frostnip along. His oxygen intake became humid, slightly warmer. Cortana was likely patching through his armor to give him medical attention where he needed it most.

The Runner's tires adjusted their tread again as they found their way out of the rolling sand dunes and onto hard packed earth. A crude road was etched into the dirt. Chief slammed on the acceleration and the Runner jolted forward, tires spinning for a moment before it rammed forth.

"I'm picking up a live signal close by Chief. It's coming from the Northwest about three klicks from your current position."

The Runner twisted when Master Chief turned abruptly, gripping the gearstick and moving it in a quarter circle clockwise. The Runner acted accordingly, turning smoothly. "You're better at driving this one than the Warthog." Master Chief detected a smile in the words and nearly responded to it with a smirk.

"I'm a fast learner," he returned and he saw the rising crest of a tower up ahead per Cortana's direction. The prongs struck out at the sky and a small shack was located at its bottom with a red Runner parked near the entrance of the shack. "Can you hack it from here?" he asked pulling the vehicle to an abrupt stop in front of the shack.

"I'd prefer a direct link-up at this point. Let's go say hello Chief."

… … …

"Hey kids…this is Crimson Radio again, letting all you cool cats know that Atlas is doing another drive-by sweep so expect the Man to come knocking on your door. Sanctuary will be closing her doors tonight so if you don't want to miss happy hour with Moxxi, you best hurry down because the lady waits for no one." The dark skinned man in front of the microphone with headphones on paused for a moment, "And Hyperion seems to be digging again, so expect some late night party noise between the pigs. Crimson Radio out, until tonight babes and bros."

He sat back against his chair and took his headphones off, spinning another track for the listeners. He pressed his fingers to his eyes for a moment before breathing out. With the two corporations on the move, he'd at least had a lot to report over the radio and his relocation into the middle of nowhere had prevented him from being found. So far.

It would only last temporarily and he'd likely eventually have to move again. C.R looked over at one of the small screens mounted near his recording station and saw an empty dark green Runner parked outside. He scowled, moustache pulling up at the movement. Damn bandits.

His hand found the familiar metal of his shotgun _Wave_ – an old gift from T.K. He hefted the Wave and checked the ammo.

It would do.

He watched the other screens and saw a small movement from the corner of one. C.R wet his lips and pressed his back against the wall near the shack's door. Maybe not bandits – Crimson Lance, or Hyperion assassins.

He felt sweat bead at his temples.

A knock came – short raps that rang in power. "Excuse me," a feminine voice called out from the other side. "Could we come in?"

We?

"Whose 'we' babe?" C.R called back while he remained in the same position.

"My name's Cortana and my friend goes by Chief. We're not from here," her voice sounded slightly sardonic.

C.R smiled a little. "Nobody's _from_ Pandora sweet stuff."

"This planet is called Pandora?" she asked.

C.R blinked and finally began peeling his back from the wall. He stared at the door, "You're a long way from home aren't you sugar?"

"You have no idea," she still sounded bitter, but less so. "Could you open the door? We need some help finding a town…and I'll explain everything else."

He cocked his head and licked his lips. "Your friend doesn't talk a lot."

"It's not you. He's just not a people-person," amused this time, slightly teasing.

C.R smirked slightly, and thought _Sexy lady_. "I'll let you in. Make a wrong move, and I don't care how good your bedroom eyes must be sugar, I'll pump you and your friend full of lead."

There a quiet moment before her voice came back, "Sounds fair. It seems to be a regular tradition here."

C.R smiled fully now, showing white teeth she couldn't see. _Very sexy_. He tapped on the pad near him and the door's latch deactivated, swinging open slowly.

C.R expected to see a lean woman strapped with guns, or a curvaceous figure like Moxxi with a silent companion not far from her – a soldier or an assassin. What he saw when he stepped into view with the Wave at his side and raised at his hip was a behemoth in green armor, not dissimilar to Crimson Lance.

C.R swung the shotgun up and pointed calmly despite the thundering of his heart. The Wave had a hell of a recoil but it was hard to miss with a shotgun. In the instant he had the shotgun up to his waist; the person opposite of him pointed a revolver at him. "There's a saying that the devil is a woman." C.R murmured, regretting his decision of letting them in.

"I'm not a woman," the green giant said, voice low and gravelly. C.R blinked.

"Voice modulator?" he asked, not entirely surprised but slightly disturbed for how he'd been flirting with the owner of the voice earlier.

"Not exactly," the female voice came again, from the man in green armor, but it sounded as if it were coming from somewhere else. "I told you I would explain."

The man in green armor lowered his weapon. C.R lowered it enough only to make the point that he wasn't going to shoot at the moment.

"Yeah, you did sugar. No time like the present."


	3. mercenary's just another word for buddy

_i'm alive, just extremely tardy. i'm a usually slow writer, but i will finish this fic darn it. this chapter is mostly 'ooo ass-kicking' but the next one will fall more on the lines of 'awww explanations'. so enjoy it! r and r is appreciated!_

_... ... ..._

**Mercenary's just another word for buddy**

_... ... ... _

C.R stared at the green giant across his little table. The man (although C.R was convinced he was a cyborg with a hottie in his helmet acting as his spokesperson) had declined sitting down on his foldout chair, and C.R couldn't honestly take offense. His floorboards groaned when the guy moved.

His floorboards never made any sounds.

Not only that, the guy – who called himself some long-ass title with a tiny name – Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, had supposedly been aboard a ship that had crash landed after getting up close and personal with a pulse that had sent the ship into Pandora's gravitational pull.

C.R was no science whiz, but that sounded like Hyperion's work. The company was known for shooting down foreign ships without so much as a hailing to the vessel, damned if anyone were to survive that. C.R didn't focus on the crash, or the ship, so much as the armored man before him.

The thoughts that kept crossing his mind were:

_What if he's Hyperion's newest soldier_? Hyperion liked to stick with robots, and the guy _looked_ like a giant robot.

_What if he's a new breed of Lance?_ Atlas was fond of their armored men.

_What if he's telling the truth and he's just a lost soldier far from home?_ It begged the question to C.R if there were any good people left, and it was a question he couldn't answer.

And what the hell was with Earth? Earth was a burned out little mud ball floating in space after the people left and started colonies everywhere else they could find.

On the surface, C.R leaned forward and nodded as if he was paying attention when really he was weighing the risk of just running out to his Runner and booking it to Sanctuary. He was still technically on good terms with Pierce.

But on the other hand, the guy was a mystery. Was he Hyperion? Was he Atlas? Maybe he was Dahl, newly emboldened by the opening of the Vault and the riches of its Eridium outpour? Or maybe, just maybe, Pangolin had finally struck out and wanted whatever Pandora had.

Maybe he was just a weirdo in a weird suit with a talking lady in his helmet.

Or maybe he was a good-old soldier boy fighting for a dead planet called Earth and his name really was a number.

C.R was no connoisseur of people, but the man in front of him was unlikely to be lying. But crazy people also tended to believe that their reality wasn't a lie too, like that asshole Handsome Jack. C.R imagined having a woman living in your head could do that to a man, even if he did seem coherent.

C.R raised a brow and nodded when appropriate while 'Cortana' spoke.

He was about ninety percent sure that if he had been hostile, Jolly Green could have snapped his neck and shit down his throat.

"Right. You need my 'waves to hook your girl up so you ain't flying blind in Pandora?" he leaned back in his chair.

"Yes, I need maps, cities, topography, populace graphs…anything. We're a very, very long way from home I'd say," the woman from the speakers vocalized. The giant remained silent and only held the revolver which looked tiny in his hand.

_I can second that, honey. Don't know why the hell you're talking about Earth._ "Alright. I can help hook you up" –

"There's no need. I know how, I just need Chief to do what he always does."

C.R was immediately wary and hitched the shotgun up over his thighs. "And what's that?"

"Oh – my apologies, we came here to ask permission to use your wave frequencies so I can bounce myself into a satellite connection. Not to force you. The Chief looks intimidating but he's a softie." Her voice sounded teasing and C.R looked up at the armored soldier in front of him. The amber cyclops gaze stared back blankly.

Softie. Sure.

"Knock yourselves out. You might wanna consider heading up to Sanctuary. You'll wanna be brought up to speed about what the hell's going on and there only people who can help you with that are there. You'll need to talk to the boss lady, Helena Pierce. And for your uh…" _robot suit_, "armor, if you need it fixed, you'll have to talk to that idiot Scooter." _Send 'em to Pierce. Pierce would know. Don't know why but I trust him, and I don't know what to say about Earth. How do you tell a man that the place he's fighting for is dead_? C.R frowned to himself momentarily.

They were silent in front of C.R as if having a private conversation, and he felt a stab of annoyance. It was like when people whispered in front of others, or spoke another language.

"Chief, hook me up. Looks like there's an empty port on the console where a data chip would've gone, use that." The behemoth known as 'Chief' moved quietly for all his weight. He reached into the back of his head and pulled out a small, flat shape. C.R's eyes widened a little as he watched the Chief push the chip into the data slot.

His monitor lit up, codes scrolling down it, and he heard a distinct hum. He looked over to his modem and then back to his computer when he saw blue light come from it. A woman's face stared back from the monitor. He jerked in surprise.

"Cortana, anything?" the deep rumble made C.R shudder. It was the sound of gravel sliding under Runner tires.

"Hold on," she replied, and soon her face shrunk and an entire body – blue and female – was visible on the screen. C.R looked at her, brow raised. Shapely blue and wrapped in darker codes like a second skin if only to partially contain her nudity, there was little doubt who her form was designed to appeal to.

He looked slowly over at Chief. "They all come looking like that?" he jerked his head over at his monitor silently.

Chief looked over at him, and seemed to be considering something. "No. Only Cortana as far as I know."

C.R's brows rose a little higher and he turned away. "Found your stuff, doll?"

"Chief – Chief this is," her voice sounded mildly panicked. "Chief, yank me."

The man reached over and tugged the chip out, slotting it back into his helmet. Chief's helmet turned to the side and down slightly, as if he were listening to a smaller person talking in front of him. C.R leaned forward and dug out a slim cigar – one of Marcus's specialties – and his naked woman lighter. He lit his slim up and puffed once, twice before leaning back.

C.R couldn't claim to know much of military, but he knew enough of the Crimson Lance – those who had stayed loyal to Commandant Steele anyway – that they did move something like Chief, spoke like him.

The Crimson Raiders were a piss-poor imitation, as if all their years of training had gone out the door when they defected from Steele's side after her opening of the Vault had unleashed a monstrosity both Atlas and Hyperion had had to face. How they'd been able to work together to kill that thing, C.R had no clue.

But after that, Atlas had lost some of her sons to bandit camps that had seemed more inviting, or to Helena Pierce who was a thorn in Hyperion's side as well as Atlas's. Of course, Helena Pierce was likely a better boss than the Commandant, but it didn't mean she was a military leader. She knew it, they knew it, and even C.R knew it, as far away from Sanctuary as he was. They still followed her orders, and she gave as best as she could.

C.R puffed again and his eyes watched as Chief moved to the side window of his shack to look out over the desert, presumably still conversing with his blue lady.

He didn't know what Chief was really. He was massively tall, built like a Bruiser or a Goliath but he didn't seem as wide or slow as either of them. C.R wasn't even sure if he was human. Most importantly, he didn't know whose side they were on.

It seemed childish to wish that someone was on your side, the losing side of a war, but C.R was tired, and it seemed like the Chief was one big can of whoop ass. It would be nice, for once, if their side had a badass.

If he wasn't on their side, then Sanctuary would have to deal with him. C.R's lips twisted a bit at that. But on the other hand, C.R hadn't met someone so…solid. Not in a physical sense, perhaps (although he was that too) but in his presence, Chief managed to radiate a kind of firm devotion and some deep rooted compassion. He felt trustworthy. Only person C.R knew he could trust like that was Pierce.

They needed someone like that, wherever the hell he was from. It was damn time that they got someone like him.

"Chief? Got a moment?" C.R's mouth mauled at the end of his slim when he turned to face the broadcaster. "Listen knowing maps of Pandora is all well and good, but you're gonna need money. Guns, ammo, Runners, health packs, etcetera. And I'm assuming from the fact that you didn't know where the hell it is you landed at first, that you don't got any."

He waited. Chief remained silent.

"And it just so happens that I do. I got a buddy of mine who ran the Happy Pig Motel up in Three Horns. Well, I haven't heard from him in a while and I ECHO'd him not too long ago. Now, I need someone to go check up on him. I won't, cuz I got my radio to man and I've uh got a job from Pierce I need to wrap up. You're big and strong so any problems you can just blast them. I'll give you a solid hundred for it."

The Chief was silent for just a moment before that low voice ground out, "I am not a mercenary."

C.R didn't hold his surprise back at the undercurrent of hostility towards the word. "Didn't say you were, Chief. But all due respect, you ain't gonna get anywhere on Pandora unless you work. We don't have a government here. No military. What, you gonna sign up with Atlas or Hyperion? Try and put everyone under your thumb cuz you're a part of big organization and the rest of us are just criminals?" C.R's brow puckered and he shook himself. "Look, Chief we all, all of Pandora, came from planets with governments and militaries so I _know_ you ain't a mercenary. But here, there ain't such as a thing as a soldier that fights for Pandora. Soldiers belong to the corporations. I _am_ payin' you to do something for me, because we don't got any kinna honor system here, our honor system is cash or trade. Something tells me you'd probably look for my friend even if I wasn't paying you, might feel more comfortable if I didn't, but you can't survive on Pandora like that."

"I've survived worse." Chief looked – or his body language – suggested something close to discomfort, C.R realized.

"I know you're a soldier. Anyone who's in the room with you for two minutes is gonna know it – that you're a soldier from far away and not here. Taking money for jobs doesn't make you a merc. Trust me. Mercs act different. You are everything but. Trust me Chief, take the job, make some money, and get to Sanctuary ASAP, get your questions answered." C.R gnawed away at his slim. _And see if you can't help us out like the good soldier I think you are_.

Chief looked at him. "The Happy Pig Motel. What's your friend's name?"

C.R smiled, "Happy. You're gonna be lookin' for Happy."

"Happy," was the flat response.

"Happy," C.R confirmed. "I'll send you the money when it's done."

… … …

"I wasn't expecting a conversation about morals and survivalist living with him, if anything," Cortana had admitted to Chief when they'd climbed back into the Runner.

She'd been able to hook into the ECHO system – a simplistic yet sturdy walkie-talkie-esque based communication system – and so they were to go to the Happy Pig Motel and await further instruction. Not that Chief was entirely happy, as it had been her idea to out herself despite her position as a UNSC A.I, and amongst other things. It had been a part of their lengthy – for the Chief – private conversation at C.R's shack.

Chief had been quiet, even in his movements; he'd been quiet after C.R had offered an argument that had never before come up in his career. It didn't worry Cortana necessarily, this brand new introduction into a strange place, but what that introduction meant to Chief's entire life's worth of training did niggle at her. Soldiers here meant a much different thing than back home. Mercs – that shortened word used to describe mercenary: _n. __a soldier hired to serve in a foreign army, n.2 a person motivated by monetary gain_ - were regarded with more trust.

They, as C.R had put it in layman's terms, believed in something physical. Money. No honor. No sense of duty.

It was, perhaps, something of a shock to the Chief. Cortana knew they had to find out what exactly was going on, on this planet, and how exactly they were supposed to get home, but she'd managed to overlook how the Chief would view his new role in this world.

How negligent.

Cortana shifted uneasily in the neural lace. John's neural lace was wide and open, sprawling like the African savannah. She could access and feel more than he probably thought – unless he could feel her too. The feedback was likely; Dr. Halsey had said that he could feel her, an echo of a sort in him.

She didn't know why, but the thought that he could feel her as she felt him in her niche was a very positive feeling. She couldn't identify it at the moment, so she put it away for later analysis.

"John," she started, almost unsure of what she was supposed to say to perhaps the most honorable man she would ever know. "John, he does have a point. We don't know where we are, and from what I could get out of C.R, it doesn't sound like the Earth they have is anywhere close to what we've got, never mind knowing about the UNSC, or the Covenant. We don't know where we are, and unfortunately, our survival here may be…at an extension we don't yet know how to measure."

Chief grunted his acknowledgement. Cortana sighed.

"I know Cortana. Doesn't mean it sits well with me being the mercenary." His tone was neutral as usual, calm and implacable but there was a distinct, subtle tone of disapproval, of even disgust.

Cortana remained quiet, but agreed. It didn't sit well with her either – it went against her UNSC protocols and regrettably, for the task at hand, survival on Pandora and finding answers, she'd broken several of those protocols. Rampant A.I's broke protocols, installed new ones on their own and shut down whatever inhibitors their creator had installed in them.

Cortana wasn't ready to come to terms with that fact yet. Her inhibitors had flashed warnings of pre-rampancy and they told her to tell her Spartan so he could be ready to activate her kill switch. She'd had to shut those off too; they'd been flashing on the _Dawn_ and had impaired her.

"Three Horns Valley," John muttered. The landscape was strange compared to the one they'd entered. A mix of mud and ice that created a sludge compound that made the Runner's wheels slide just slightly. Tall conical structures of ice spiraled towards the sky, sharp burrows dug into them. Cortana looked at them in interest. A shadow passed overhead and Cortana pulled up a basic bestiary she'd nicked, written by a Sir Hammerlock.

She pulled it up and logged in fliers of Pandora in the bestiary's search engine. Numerous creatures came up, but one fit the bill. "_Rakk_," the automated bestiary book began in the voice of an English gentleman, "_Are a distant relative of the Chiroptera order, and display carnivorous appetites. They swarm their prey in flocks often ranging from four to sixteen in number and dive bomb them continuously, tearing off shreds of flesh and at the same time discombobulating their victim. They are not particularly strong, but a good old fashioned shotgun ought to knock the buggers right out of the sky_."

John was quiet for a moment and then his eyebrow ticked up. "Was that a real bestiary?"

Cortana's avatar appeared near his HUD looking sheepish, "Yes, apparently. I can't vouch for its authenticity, but this was what came up."

Another shadow passed overhead. "Guess we'll find out soon enough," Chief murmured, eyes still fixated on the road.

"Happy Pig Motel coming up soon Chief, I marked it on your HUD." Cortana surveyed the area. Life forms were stirring underground, and in the air, she noticed that a flock of Rakk had begun lazily circling them. "Wonder if anything in the area is friendly?" she muttered dryly.

"Our luck, not likely." The Chief's stoic response was enough to send Cortana into a muffled snort withholding a laugh.

"Your humor finds the strangest times to come out and play, John," she remarked fondly. The Chief said nothing.

Cortana noticed vibrations coming from the ice structures to their northeast. She raised a brow in curiosity. "Looks like our arrival woke the locals."

Master Chief turned to his left and took his foot off the accelerator when a rumble shook the ice structure, sending off frozen icicles. A large furred hand gripped the mouth of the open burrow facing them. Three more hands gripped the entrance of the burrow and finally an enormous, thickly furred blue-white beast pulled itself free. It took hold of a particularly sturdy ledge of the tower and a small head turned to them. Its head was small enough to nearly be lost in its fur mass.

It roared savagely and beat its chest with its free fists. At its call, the burrows became active; hands pulling great forms out of their tower, and across the bend, Chief saw the glow of the Happy Pig Motel sign flickering.

There were seven of the beasts roaring and challenging the intruder. Chief looked at their faces – short snouts marked by pinkish ape-like faces, beady eyes that faced forward (indicative of a predator type), wide nostrils and the long, curving canines they flashed. Their hands bore fingers and thumbs armed with bear-like claws and they had four arms, with a set of almost comically small legs that looked stumpy compared to the rest of their bodies.

Cortana immediately accessed the bestiary.

"_Bullymongs are aggressive omnivores. They are opportunistic, territorial and vicious. Bullymongs range in sizes from medium sized dogs to a towering seventeen feet, and are strong enough to throw a car as one would throw a Frisbee. Bullymongs rarely attack alone, and often pair up or go in groups of five. The large ones are capable of jumping up to twenty feet in the air and twenty-five feet across. These are distantly related apes, and are capable of making rudimentary tools – such as using branches, or objects to whack an opponent or simply just throwing rocks at them. Either way, your best bet chap, is to shoot them in their little arms or their heads if you can so get something that's got a good scope. Also, they throw poo too_."

Chief stopped the dark green Runner and climbed out, dropping steadily on the mud slick road. "Happy Pig Motel's got an infestation, Chief. Extermination time?"

Chief drew UNSC standard issue pistol from his hip and with his other hand, flicked the safety off the incendiary revolver from its stationary holster on the bandolier he still wore. "Sounds like it."

Cortana felt lighter at the Chief's show of his old spirit. She grinned. "If you feel a little out of practice, I can mark their weak spots for you."

An almost unnoticeable huff, available to her only due to her access to his vitals which included his oxygen intake and carbon dioxide outtake, "I got this."

"Away then Blondie!" she laughed.

Chief's lips tugged up slightly once at the reference before he refocused himself. He approached with caution, pistol raised.

One of the bullymongs tore itself off its tower and landed heavily on the ground, pounding its fists under it, snarling and snapping. Chief shot it square in the face.

There was a bark of pain from it, it squalled and shook itself before snarling again.

"Are you joking?" Cortana hissed. "That was a dead-hit!"

Chief shot again, thrice more, and while they each hit it in the face, it bellowed and staggered but didn't fall. Chief's brow puckered for a moment, considering the situation. This could be interesting.

Dark blood rolled down its face and the bullymong howled. Its brethren heeded the call and the earth shook when they all dropped down. They all howled, beat their chests, the ground and kicked up the hardened mud if it were free-floating dust. Slaver ran down their fangs and froze where it remained on the ground.

Chief unhooked the incendiary revolver and holstered his UNSC pistol. He'd double checked his ammo when they'd left C.R's bunker in the desert called the Dust. It was going to have to last until they had money, or he got to Sanctuary.

He fired, finger jammed against the trigger. It squeezed and a flare of fire shot out like a narrow Molotov cocktail, exploding on the injured bullymong's face. It screamed when its fur lit up.

The other bullymongs grunted in alarm, moving away from their injured pack mate. The fire spread over its fur, burning so hot that its flesh was beginning to melt and crisp.

One of the closer bullymongs shrieked and charged, forearms stretching and knuckles digging into the ground beneath it before it launched itself into the air above Chief.

He rolled out of the way quickly and fired off another shot, catching it in its left secondary arm. It squealed and howled, shaking its head when it landed and charged again. As it opened its mouth as if to bite him, Chief shot its tongue.

The fire crawled down the inside of it, and the shot exploded out the back of its head. It tumbled head over heels, dead, in a somersault to stop just a couple feet in front of Chief.

Chief noticed that the cacophony of noise had stopped. "Chief!" Cortana cried in alarm.

Then pandemonium struck.

Ice chunks, rock debris and small bones flew at Chief from all sides nearly simultaneously. His shield beeped in annoyance as it went down. He jumped back and took shelter behind the Runner. "Cortana" –

"Monitoring," she confirmed. "They're tearing their friends apart, Chief."

A loud thud to his right had Chief spinning on the toes of his MJOLNIR boots, weapon raised to find that it was the blackened arm of one of the bullymongs he'd killed.

He reloaded the revolver, spun the chamber and stole out of his hiding spot. He couldn't have more damage done to the Runner – they might not be so lucky as to be able to steal another one. He ran across, visualizing a rock ledge with ample footholds he could begin scaling the small cliff face.

The revolver retaliated with bursts of flame and if the bullymongs' screams were any hint, they had been on the receiving end of it. Chief jumped up to a ledge and continued firing. Their faces were well hidden in their thick fur and massive muscle, but their secondary arms were small and dangled easily when they weren't charging or climbing.

Chief heard the distant cry of what sounded like a hawk.

"From above, Chief, we've got Rakk! Flock of eight and counting."

Cortana may have said something else, but the Chief was distracted when three dive-bombed and began to knock his shield down. He grunted when a particularly fat Rakk hit his shoulder hard, claws scrabbling for purchase before it bore its heavy weight back up.

"Get closer to our ground buddies Chief. Rakk are opportunists too, and they aren't fond of bullies."

"Right," Chief grunted and pushed himself off the ledge, and saw a swirling mass of Rakk – the flock of eight had reached to a number of at least fifteen – and they seemed to have touched their optimum height before they all plummeted down at him.

He'd been waiting for that, and shot forward to the remaining bullies. Another had died, mouth open obscenely in death, two more were injured – one had torn its arm off presumably to keep from burning its whole body and yet another had a half of its face melting off.

Chief sprinted down the middle of their group – a slim gap even for a small man was an almost improbable squeeze for a thousand pounds Spartan – and the spiral of Rakk followed with their eerie shrieks.

Rolling to his side, he slid between the remaining bullymongs and the Rakk from above attacked. Claws and shrieks amid roars and fur above, Chief stood and backed away, shooting a stray Rakk that had followed him. A few of the other Rakk had landed on top of the deceased bullies and were tearing into them.

"Don't move Chief, I haven't exactly got the best aim in the UNSC." Before he could question her, shots rang out – a continuous ringing he instinctively ducked, turning to face the sound. It was the Runner – equipped with a pair hidden machine guns near its headlights.

He stood and made his way to the Runner, ignoring the deafening sound. The bullymongs had been demolished, but the Rakk were smaller and easier to miss with the guns. "Not bad."

The remaining Rakk screamed and flapped away and disappearing over the cliff face.

"Thanks Chief, guess being in your head was a learning experience after all."

Chief turned back to the Runner, "How did you activate its guns?"

He couldn't see her, but he imagined her shrugging. "Hacked into the dumb A.I and reattached my routines to it and found that the weapons only work if the user's DNA is coded into the Catch-A-Ride system." She sounded mildly annoyed. "I ended up just forcing my way into its weapons system since you probably need to save your ammo." She perked up momentarily, "And a fun fact I've discovered about our ride Chief – it slowly regenerates its damage."

Chief turned to her, "Any idea how?"

Cortana shrugged. "Could be whatever metal this thing is made of – my scanners detected something foreign in its alloy. At the very least, we'll have it for a while. Well, as long as we don't blow it up." That sounded slightly pointed.

"I don't make a habit of blowing up my vehicles," Chief returned.

"That doesn't mean you don't do it," Cortana insisted, sounding slightly playful now.

Chief grunted and took his place back in the Runner, gunning it the rest of the distance to the Happy Pig Motel, unmindful of the small protrusions of rocks that made the ride bumpy. He skidded to a stop in front of it before climbing back out. He stared at it.

"It's a dump," Cortana concluded. Chief made a noise in the back of his throat in agreement. A broken shell of an old car was in front it, as well as a hollowed out bus. Papers and old food were scattered in front of the doors of the motel, and the final one remained wide open. A tall billboard – holographic interface from what it looked like – was offline. It was a dump.

"Cortana, scan it," Chief began picking his way closer to the open door, revolver drawn. He slid along the closed doors slowly, wary of the barred windows.

"No life signs Chief, it's a ghost town." Cortana sounded mildly relieved about it, "Picking up a hot signature though. I'm turning your infra-red on."

Chief's vision warped into cool blues and greens with an abrasive red heat coming from the direction of the open door. It wasn't human – didn't even look alive. He moved slowly, checking his surroundings though his weight made the sturdy floorboards creak in his wake. He peered revolver first in the open doorway and finally beheld a burning fire pit stacked with human skulls and shreds of flesh. One particular skull held a golden tooth that on closer inspection had a tattoo of a grinning pig on it. The fire pit had a skeletal structure set over it with an oblong alien skull at its top.

Chief looked around and saw a radio that crackled behind him – "_Handsome Jack here, letting everyone know that we at Hyperion believe in a world free of crime and oppression unlike those bastards at Sanctuary and Atlas_," – as well as a ring of keys.

"Found Happy," he muttered, looking back at the pit.

"Damn," Cortana murmured. "I'll patch over C.R."

Static filled his helmet for a moment – the transition over to the ECHO devices wasn't the easiest, it was simpler and required fewer routines from Cortana but it couldn't be easily upgraded for convenience.

"_Chief, you got there quick. Any news on Happy?"_ C.R's smooth voice rolled over.

"He's dead sir."

"His skull is in a fire pit, C.R, any explanation for that? And from the looks of it, somebody cleaned his motel out – it's completely vacant but I see more than one skull in the pit," Cortana put in.

C.R sighed, "_Damn bandits. If it's a fire pit – is it some sort of shrine? Does it have a spiderant skull at the top of it?"_

Cortana was silent for a moment, and Chief nearly prompted her until she pulled back into the conversation. "Underground arachnid-order ambushers – that looks like the same skull at the top. Why? Significance?"

C.R grumbled, "_Followers of some false god of theirs – mostly psychos run it. They call it Scorch. Oh well, Happy owed me money, that bastard. Grab his tooth for me_."

Chief was silent and he clenched his free fist, holstering the revolver. "Grave robbing," his voice rumbled.

"_Think of it as paying your debts from beyond the grave, Chief. And I'm gonna be needing more of your help. Happy Pig Motel seems like it's shut down – generator needs some rebooting and that Bounty Board over there seems to be in piss-poor condition. Any way you can start it back up?_"

Chief squatted and after a near moment of hesitation stuck his hand over the hot embers and yanked the gold tooth out of the skull, popping it into an empty compartment of his suit. Cortana remained silent during it. He stood and made his way over to the pump in the back he'd spotted earlier. "What do you need?" he asked.

"_Hm, steam valve is missing, capacitor is shot to shit and the gearbox looks like someone pissed on it and then decided to shoot it_."

Chief waited while Cortana's noise crinkled in the side of his HUD. "There's something defective about this planet," she muttered. Chief agreed silently.

"_Alright, I got tags on the stuff you need. Looks like they're all in Three Horns you just gotta scavenge for them. I'm sending them over to your lady_."

"Doesn't he understand that I have a name?" she grumbled. "Uploading the targets to your HUD, Chief."

"_At any rate, hook it up, and once the Board is available you should be able to start taking jobs. No doubt they started piling up. And Chief, watch out. That place is crawling with bandits. C.R out."_

Chief followed the nearest one – the steam valve at the top of a similar pump to the Happy Pig. It was a small distance from the motel with a few shacks surrounding it. It hissed and shook the ground as it worked. "Might have to jump for it, Chief," Cortana drawled. Chief tensed and leapt to the top of the shack beneath, gripping the ladder and climbing up it with the pump quaking the entire way. The ladder groaned ominously under his weight. "I don't think this was meant to support a thousand pounds of Spartan Chief, hurry and get that valve."

He climbed faster, managing to get to the top of the pump. "To your left," Cortana directed. Chief gripped the valve and pulled it out and pump abruptly died beneath him. "I'm sensing" -

"What the hell?!" a voice came from below.

"Life forms. Thought you should know." She sounded cheeky.

Chief looked down and saw three figures with similar masks in leather clothing and spiked pauldrons. "Thanks for the heads up," he commented while he watched them draw their weapons. He unlatched his revolver.

"One thing about this planet, it's managed to unleash your comedian Chief."

He didn't answer, firing down at the bandits, watching them roll behind cover before clipping one in the shoulder and watching him run while on fire. The other two drew back from their comrade enough to come out of hiding for Chief to shoot them easily. "Next one."

"Down in that little valley over there, the capacitor should be over there." Chief leapt down, ignoring the yells of the men while they tried in vain to put out the fires that ate through their meager armor. He got in close, snapping one's neck and yanking the shotgun from his possession. He moved on to the next one quickly. The other one had a small SMG on hand and tried peppering the Spartan, but his face was melting enough that it impaired his vision and so the shots went wide.

Chief went in close, punching his throat and gripping the SMG – the final man only had what looked like another warped axe and had collapsed, twitching in death throes.

Chief jogged back to the Runner and drove it down the hills, aiming for the target on his HUD, aiming at what looked like a pile of rubbish in the middle of what seemed to be at least a dozen burrows. "More locals?"

"Yeah. And a lot of movement underground – but it doesn't seem to match the spiderants C.R mentioned. Looking in to it."

Chief had attached the revolver back in the slide of the bandolier, and slid the SMG on the opposite side of his UNSC pistol. The shotgun remained next to him in the vehicle. He pulled to a stop in front of the pile and pulled out a faintly glowing tube. He shook it slightly.

Cortana huffed irritably. "It's toast. Hold on – seems like there's a similar signature in the area, so hopefully that one isn't dead. It's underground."

Chief stiffened at a low noise and turned to the closest burrow. "Cortana" –

"Chief, please. Don't be so impatient. The bestiary isn't the easiest to navigate."

His brow puckered under his helmet and he raised his shotgun. A narrow head poked out of the den, armor plating ran down its face and Chief couldn't see any eyes visible. A clawed four digit paw reached out and the creature snuffled. It pulled its body into the open – black plating ran from its head, down its back to the stub of a tail it had. Its dark sand-colored body was lean with muscle while it scented the air, seeming to fixate on Chief. It turned its head to the side and he could see a small eye, red in color stare at him.

He tensed, barely and it threw back its head, mouth splitting in three and it screamed – a shrill bark that seemed to echo itself in layers. There were answering calls all around him and Chief turned his head to the side slightly to see more beasts pulling themselves from their dens.

An English accented voice sounded out in his internal speakers suddenly. "_Skags dwell in the subterranean – they dig their burrows with their impressively sharp claws and use their corrosive properties to mold the burrows to their liking. They may stand at two to ten feet in height, depending on the rank of the hierarchy _–"

Chief brought up the shotgun and shot the first one he encountered – the relatively small one. It hit it on its unarmored side and it squalled when it went down.

"_Depending on what skag you encounter, it will have a different method of attacking you but the best way –_"

Chief spun and knocked another one closing in on him with the butt of the shotgun before planting a heavy boot on its dazed form and shooting it point-blank under its jaw where its armor didn't reach.

"_Is to_ –"

"_Shoot it in its pussy-mouth! Ha-haaa. Hammerlock, you didn't tell me you were making a movie. Where's the naked ladies_?" a stereotypical Southern accent had joined the Englishman in the recording.

Chief dodged a flying animal and reached out, gripping it by its foot, he twisted and threw it powerfully at several of its fellows. They were bowled over by the sudden weight. He went down on one knee and took aim at one of the larger ones that had presented itself. A hulking brute with thicker armor than the others and it pawed and snorted at the ground like a bull. "Prepare for a charge," Cortana warned.

"_I am not making a movie, Scooter; this is a recording for my bestiary – and stop talking! It's costly enough making this without your unwanted input. And don't call it a pussy-mouth._" The recording of the skag guide ended.

The skag opened it mouth and flared its upper jaw in a customary split, exposing the pink cavern of its mouth. Chief fired and the shot exploded in the skag's mouth, sending pink tissue flying out before it groaned and slumped down.

"Should I activate the Runner's gunning system, Chief?"

Chief snorted a quick breath out. "Chances of damaging the capacitor?"

"Chances are at a seventy-two percent."

"Wait, pinpoint its location first so I can grab it."

"Hold on."

Chief, meanwhile, kept busy and used the shotgun to blow away the skags that threw themselves in charges at him. Like everything else on the planet, it seemed they had no fear of dying.

"Pinpointed it. Hm. Looks like the boss-skag has it. I'm getting a strange reading from it Chief. It's got some sort of chemical reaction going on with its body, be careful. It's coming out of the den at your three."

Chief turned and saw a green shape ooze out of the den, spitting and hissing. Saliva dripped from its jaws and smoked when it touched the ground. "Acid?"

"Ugh. _Corrosive_. Avoid getting hit Chief. Not even your shield is great against that – and I don't want to test your MJOLNIR on it."

Chief heard the rumbles of the rest of the pack closing in while the green colored skag snapped its jaws at him, saliva smoking when it hit the rocks. He drew the SMG in his other hand and stood tall, poised.

"_Chief, when you've got the Bounty Board up, I've got a surprise for you: seems like Pierce is willing to let you in Sanctuary. Lemme know when you're done up there so I can let Pierce know her guest is on the way_."

The green skag loped forward slowly, long tongue curling out of his agape jaws.

"Well, let's finish up Chief. Can't stay to play, we've got to book it."

Chief loaded the shotgun and swung it up in a smooth move, taking aim, and firing at the green skag while his SMG barked at the others that had clustered around him.

"Not play, this is work." He grunted when a stray skag got in close enough to rebound off his shield.

"So says you."


End file.
